Uneasy
by Sealed Envelope
Summary: "He was happy; this was what he had always dreamed of, and he was making his family proud of him, unlike his blood-traitor of a brother. Then why was there this little niggling feeling in the back of his head that was making him uneasy? " One-Shot.


_A/N:_

_I have absolutely no idea where this came from. At all. In case you couldn't tell, the little voice in his head is his conscious, taking the form of Sirius, because he's the only person that didn't spew pureblood-ism (is that a word?). I might write a second chapter, where he finally leaves the Death Eaters by getting the Horcrux, but it depends on whether or not you want it - please leave me a review!_

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The night was dark, but the man kneeling on the floor wasn't scared. The night was full of unearthly noises, moans and wails that would make the bravest of men shudder, but the man kneeling on the ground showed no weakness. The night was freezing cold, but the man kneeling on the floor didn't tremble as he held his arm out to the powerful being in front of him, neither in cold nor in fear.

He was ready, ready to impress his family and friends by taking the mark of the man who was bringing a new age to the wizarding world, an age that he approved of full-heartedly. His parents weren't there, believing in the man's ideas but not young and healthy enough to actively enforce them, but everyone else that he knew was. There were Bellatrix and Narcissa, and almost every single one of his childhood friends, over half of his Slytherin housemates. His aunt and uncle were there, watching proudly from the corners of the room, planning on relaying every detail to his parents as soon as they could. He couldn't have been happier.

_Yes, you can._

But then why was there a voice in the back of his head, warning him not to take the Mark, telling him to run away as fast as he could, to avoid this life of pain and misery?

That was ridiculous; he ignored the voice, and focused his entire attention to the future leader of the Wizarding World, who was asking him to pledge his allegiance to the new world. He would, because it was the right thing to do.

_No, it isn't! He'll be the end of you!_

"Do you swear to uphold the beliefs of the Death Eaters until you die, in my service or outside of it."

_No!_

"Yes," he pledged.

"Do you swear to protect me and your fellow Death Eaters as we cleanse the wizarding world of the filthy blood of Muggles?"

_Don't do it!"_

"Yes."

"And do you swear to never desert the noble cause of the Death Eaters?"

_NO! I'm begging you!_

"Yes."

"Then I welcome you to the Death Eaters, Regulus Black," the Dark Lord smiled, his red eyes gleaming with power, power that he would soon share in, if he proved himself worthy. He would prove himself worthy; it was in his blood, after all.

The tiny voice in the back of his head may have screamed and pleaded and begged as Lord Voldemort's wand pressed against his arm, burning a mark that was beautiful and terrifying and deadly all at once, but Regulus didn't make a sound, instead smiling at the pain. This was what he wanted; this was what he had always wanted, he, his family, and his friends, and he would give himself to the cause completely.

_Are you sure this is what you want! Please reconsider!_

But it was too late now, even if he wanted to listen. Not that he wanted to – not at all. He was happy; this was what he had always dreamed of, and he was making his family proud of him, unlike his blood-traitor of a brother. Then why was there this little niggling feeling in the back of his head that was making him uneasy? That urged him to run while he still could, to go far, far way, to run from the torturing and the killing?

_Run away!_

Regulus Black locked it away in the recesses of his mind, where it stayed, hovering anxiously, and howling expletives at him at a voice that sounded exactly like Sirius' - but his brother didn't matter now – Sirius was a blood-traitor, he didn't deserve his attention.

But if that was the case, why did he still feel uneasy?

The other Death Eaters gathered around him once the ceremony was complete, congratulating him and praising him for choosing the better side. The Dark Side, Regulus admitted to himself, despite how corny it sounded. But it didn't matter what other people called them if their views were the better ones. Besides, it was only his family and friend's approval that he wanted.

Even Bellatrix, who had always called him a coward, and whom he had wanted approval from his entire life, was being nice to him, and saying that he was better than his brother.

Regulus felt more proud of himself in that moment than he ever had before; proud, happy, and wanted.

_Enjoy the happiness now; you'll soon regret it._

And uneasy. Always uneasy.


End file.
